


when history repeats itself

by asideofourown



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Aziraphale is "just enough of a bastard to be worth knowing" (Good Omens), Banter, Crowley is a Little Shit (Good Omens), Don't copy to another site, Heist, Hijinks & Shenanigans, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-27
Updated: 2020-06-27
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:07:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24458680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asideofourown/pseuds/asideofourown
Summary: Crowley paused at the barred door of Aziraphale’s jail cell, chuckled, and then crossed his arms and leaned casually against the doorframe.  “Well,” he said with a shit-eating grin, “This brings back memories.”[Aziraphale's attempted heist is... unsuccessful, to say the least]
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 28
Kudos: 208
Collections: Name That Author Round Four





	when history repeats itself

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for _Guess the Author_ round four in the GO Events server with the prompt _This brings back memories._ This fic has nothing at all to do with my [current AU heist fic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24458758), other than the fact that _having a brand_ kinda gave my secret identity away during guessing ;D Thanks so much to [Claudine](https://ao3.org/users/theoldaquarian) for organizing!!!
> 
> also i know i wrote this literally more than a month ago but here we are soooo
> 
> Enjoy!

Aziraphale was deep in thought, staring down at his leather brogues against the dirty concrete floor, when a metallic clanging caught his attention. The hum of conversation in a foreign language approached, and he looked over in time to see a familiar figure swagger up with hands stuffed in too-small pockets and eyebrows raised high above dark glasses. 

Crowley paused at the barred door of Aziraphale’s jail cell, chuckled, and then crossed his arms and leaned casually against the doorframe. “Well,” he said with a shit-eating grin, “This brings back memories.” 

Aziraphale huffed, standing. “Goodness, it took you long enough to get here! I called _hours_ ago.”

Crowley ignored him. “You, locked up in a French prison,” he mused, still smirking. “Me, on the other side, here to rescue you. I suppose this time, at least, you’re not at risk of being guillotined, but still… One might think you had a _thing_ for this, Aziraphale.”

Aziraphale frowned, and went to fussily straighten his bowtie before remembering his hands were cuffed. He settled for rolling his eyes. “I most _certainly_ do not, you ridiculous serpent,” he said. “Now, are you going to bail me out, or have you just come to make fun of me?”

Crowley lounged for one more minute before he straightened, stepping back to let the prison guard he had come with unlock the door. “What was it this time, angel?” he asked as the guard unlocked Aziraphale’s handcuffs. “Crepes again? The _brioche?”_

Aziraphale rubbed absently at his wrists before stepping out of the cell. “If you _must_ know, I got caught trying to rob the Louvre.”

Crowley’s jaw dropped. He was so surprised that, for a moment, he seemingly forgot to slouch as though he had no spine. 

Aziraphale sniffed. “They recently acquired a manuscript that was pilfered from my shop some two hundred years ago,” he said. “I was only trying to return it to its rightful owner.”

“That being _you?”_ Crowley said incredulously. His glasses slipped down his nose enough that Aziraphale could see his eyes, wide and golden.

“Well, it’s not as though Louis is around to claim it, so it might as well go to someone who’ll _appreciate_ it,” Aziraphale said primly. “I only got caught because I failed to recognize that their little security doodads would call the _authorities_ . Perhaps I ought to get something for _my_ shop—”

“Blessed _heaven_ , angel,” Crowley said hoarsely, and then shook his head. “Let’s go, yeah?” 

Aziraphale smiled at him. “Let’s,” he replied. “And thank you, dearheart, for… ‘springing me,’ is that what they say? I _do_ hope bail wasn’t terribly expensive.”

Crowley shoved his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Oh, yeah, no problem,” he said. “Only tried to rob the fucking _Louvre,_ apparently.” He shook his head. “Repayment can be in the form of a drink together, angel.” 

Aziraphale beamed at his husband. “That _does_ sound nice,” he said. “And, Crowley, while we’re in the area… what would you say to some crepes?” 

**Author's Note:**

> Definitely check out some of the other fics in the collection if you get a chance, as always everyone did incredibly!
> 
> Thanks for reading, I really hope you enjoyed! I'm [here](https://asideofourown.tumblr.com/) if that's something you're into


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